Boy Clad In Green
by Shawshank
Summary: Based on Kokeshi088's poems. Our favorite fairyboy makes a horrible mistake, and it comes back to haunt him in the form of...well, what? Read to find out!
1. Part One: The Mistake

Okay, here we go with the usual smart mouth author remarks.  
  
FIRSTLY, I would like to extend a BILLION thanks to Kokeshi088, whose poems this story is based on! Feel free to read and review all of her stuff!!!  
  
SECONDLY, I don't own Zelda, and I don't own this plotline, either. It belongs in its entirety to Kokeshi. If anyone out there wants to do an AU thingy, contact her, NOT me. Thank you.  
  
LASTLY, I would like to thank the group Evanescence. I listened to their music while writing this bit. Check out their CD, it's very good to listen to while reading angsty stories!  
  
Okay, have fun reading all! Take it away, curtain guy!  
  
Boy Clad In Green  
  
(The Novelized Version)  
  
Part One The Mistake  
  
I thought she was a monster.  
  
Yeah, I admit it, I was tired. Tired in my body, tired in my mind, tired in my soul. But mostly, I was tired in my heart.  
  
I was sick of this life. I couldn't stand living this way for much longer. I felt my body breaking down around me. The guilt weighed down on me, forcing me to accept the Goddess awful truth.  
  
*I* was the monster.  
  
I've killed more creatures, sentient and not, than I'd care to admit. I'm a murderer, and more than one world has learned to fear my name. Some see me for what I'm trying to do; most don't. Some people realize that I'm fighting for them, but, I've found, the vast majority of the different cultures I've come across have it set in their minds to kill me on sight.  
  
They think I bring the creatures that take away their children and kill the helpless, men and women alike. They think I summon them so that I can claim that I've cleansed the land of all evil.  
  
They think. They don't know. Unfortunately, I do.  
  
I know what it's like to kill someone else. I know what it's like to slaughter mindless creatures, but you know what's ten times worse? That's killing something that can talk to you and taunt you about the million different ways it could kill you, each one more painful than the last, before you shut its voice off forever by chopping off its head in a spray of blue blood.  
  
But you know what's a thousand times worse than even that?  
  
Killing someone by accident. And that's what I did.  
  
I'm a simple-minded Fairy Boy, but I know enough that I made a mistake. And this mistake is eating at me, slowly consuming me inside out.  
  
I was ten years old. Three years ago, when I first left the forest, I was on edge, wandering through the Woods. I heard footsteps.  
  
Now, any Kokiri worth his fairy knows that anybody is free to wander the Lost Woods. Only the Kokiri are safe from becoming Stalfos. Any child can tell you that, too.  
  
So, naturally, I thought a Stalfos was stalking me.  
  
In fact, I *knew* a Stalfos was following me through those bushes-or at least it seemed that way to me. In my idiocy and panic, I forgot that it takes time for people to become Stalfos, a slow and painful process.  
  
We used to gather around the entrance to the Woods and listen to the screams, promising each other that we'd never enter the Woods without a map. I could never stand these 'Screaming Sessions', so I ran off with Saria and sat by the waterfall, where the sound was loud enough to drown them out. Still, you could hear the shrillest wails, the ones that signified the final stages of the transformation. Those made my eyes roll up in my head, and Saria had to catch me more than once when I fainted. I would cough up blood for the next two days.  
  
And the worst thing? I never knew why these things always happened to *me*, and nobody else. Ever since the first time I heard those screams, nobody, Hylian or otherwise, has been able to explain it to me. Not civilians, village wise men, or even Sages. Princess Zelda herself was at a loss.  
  
I guess the only place I have left to turn is the Goddesses. And those were just the beings I was praying to that fateful day in the Lost Woods.  
  
I remember it clearly. I heard the steps, the loud crunching of feet on twigs, the soft weeping. At that time, I figured it was somebody who was halfway to becoming a Stalfos, somebody who had already lost his or her sane mind.  
  
I have never been so wrong in my life.  
  
There I was, crouching behind a bush, sword drawn and in my hand. I was pretty good with the short blade by that time, even if I was only a few months out of the community. The footsteps came closer.  
  
In my adrenaline-fueled delusion, I failed to hear the soft female voice being comforted by a strong, confidant male one. I crouched, ready to spring.  
  
They rounded the corner, and I jumped as high as I could (which wasn't very high), whirling around and charging up magic. I cut off the leader's head and landed, ready to spring on the next one.  
  
A spurt of red blood hit me in the face. The metallic scent made my senses reel. I couldn't see, couldn't think. I couldn't move!  
  
It was Hylian blood.  
  
I felt my stomach contract. My lunch flew out into the bushes. I retched again and again, but each time, the smell just came back stronger.  
  
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, I fell down on the ground. It was through blurry, tear-stained eyes that I first noticed the young man collapsed against a tree trunk. He was alive, physically, but his eyes were dying. I was afraid of him.  
  
Then I looked down at the body, and I was afraid of myself. I felt my humanity crumbling at the edges.  
  
A beautiful woman lay at my feet. Even though I had grown up among children, most of whom were decades older than me, I knew what beautiful meant. I had seen it in another, and everyone else had paled by comparison since then. But this one, she actually came close.  
  
Her long, wavy blue hair was strewn on the ground all around her-some of it was still long, anyway. My sword had sliced through most of it, and the shorter hair marred her high cheekbones and smooth face. Her neck, or what was left of it, was exposed to the open air.  
  
Her body was separated from her pretty head. I almost retched again, but when I looked at her face, I did.  
  
Her dark, misty red eyes were wide open, staring up at the sky in shock. I could almost see the life draining away from that head and body; her expression was forever frozen in utter, innocent surprise.  
  
I went to the bushes and was sick.  
  
When I was done, I tossed off my shield and sword. I tore my clothes, an ancient Hylian custom used to show grief when it was too great to speak of. I also tore out some of my hair, but that was because I wanted to. I was going crazy.  
  
The purple - haired man with the strange fire-eyes was still sitting against the tree, staring at her face, her body.  
  
Then I felt it. I felt myself dying as I stood. I can feel it all the time now, but it started then. I knew from that instant that I would never be the same.  
  
I sobbed, and my knees started wobbling. It was then that I noticed the dead woman's gaze was actually focused on something.  
  
I followed it up. It was the full moon hanging over our heads.  
  
I swallowed.  
  
"She loved the moon."  
  
The man had spoken. His voice was cracked, full of pain. Yet, no tear tracks streaked his face, as I knew they did mine.  
  
"We were going to get a better view of it."  
  
He slowly stood up. I found my hand reaching to my sword of its own accord. I forced it to stop with some effort. His eyes still wouldn't meet mine.  
  
"She was afraid. We were lost. I recognized that tree, and we were heading for it."  
  
Those dead eyes met mine. My hand shot for the hilt of my blade. I left it on the handle, but refused to draw the Kokiri Sword, borrowed from my childhood.  
  
"Then you panicked and decided that we weren't allowed to walk in these Woods."  
  
I almost spoke.  
  
"Who gave you the right? You're only a child with a sword. You had no right."  
  
I *almost* explained myself. Then I realized that I couldn't possibly explain myself to this man. I stood and waited for it.  
  
"You had no damn RIGHT!"  
  
His hand instantly curled into a fist and shot for my jaw. I dodged it, practically running up a tree. He laughed after me.  
  
"Coward. Run from me. Run from the power of my love."  
  
And run I did. I ran across ancient branches, ignoring the leaves and thorns that constantly smacked my face. However, I didn't run fast enough to escape the arrow that stuck itself into my right leg.  
  
"I swear this to you, child! You will not live to see your destiny!"  
  
I was afraid of him. But, just for that instant, fleeing one-legged through the treetops, I was more afraid of myself than anything else.  
  
"Remember her name, coward! Let it eat away at your soul until there is nothing left!"  
  
An older Hylian curse, from the days when honor and courage meant something and money didn't set your social standing. I limped, trying to run.  
  
He whispered, "Narissa." My ears heard the voices of the Goddesses scream it, engrave it into my mind.  
  
"NARISSA!!!!!"  
  
And, in the background noise, I picked out a small voice.  
  
"You made a mistake, foolish mortal. Hero of Time! The Goddesses decree, you will be punished!"  
  
"NARISSA!!!!!"  
  
Scratch that. I was afraid of who I was becoming, and I could find only one word to describe it.  
  
Animal.  
  
***  
  
Now, three years later, I'm once again standing in those Woods, at the exact same spot where what I thought would be a small part of my future was decided.  
  
Keyword: Thought.  
  
Her ghost is still here, even though her body is gone. I can sense it, wandering the Lost Woods, looking for her lost love. Her lover - my enemy.  
  
I remember his eyes, and the familiar old fear shoots up, a tumor in my abdomen, slowly consuming me.  
  
The curse on the arrow he gave me has eaten everything but the heart of my soul, the soul of my heart. The inner core of my very essence, and, I like to think, the one place his evil cannot taint. But the fringes of my already shabby, hastily - built walls are being torn away even as I think these thoughts. The last shred of my sanity is slowly slipping away.  
  
A curse born out of hate born out of love. Classically, I had to be at the tail end. I ask again; why am I *always* in the minority?  
  
My eyes slide shut and suddenly I'm there again, standing over her dying, severed body, tears running down my face. I realize that that, at least, is not an illusion; hot salt water is streaking my face, drying and squeezing my skin so tight I think it's about to shatter.  
  
For a second, I consider yet another what if.  
  
What if my face *did* shatter? What would I look like beneath the mask of flesh and blood? What if there was a window to my soul?  
  
What if, through that window, there was a panicked wolf, cowering in the shadows?  
  
What if there was nothing *but* shadows?  
  
Cold ice explodes through my veins, shimmering as it moves behind my already frozen eyes. The tears are gone, almost as if they never were. They have left nothing but the red rims I try to scrub away.  
  
She died here, in this lonely wood, and it was my fault. Since that moment three years ago, I have dedicated my existence to weeding out the evil everywhere and utterly destroying it. Or at least, I've tried. But it seems to keep popping up all over the place, and no matter what I do, it won't leave me alone.  
  
Ever since I had that arrow removed from my leg, I knew there was something wrong. The head wasn't silver; it was a deep ebony, and the black scar on my calve hasn't faded, and never will. It spread inward, covering my insides with its black ink, its curse. When it begins to show on my skin, when I no longer care, then it will be over. The world will be lost. *I* will end. The fevered dreams I lay wracked with every full moon come back to my mind.  
  
The darkness is closing in on me. I see it in my dreams; a million shadows, a million creatures, all destroyed by my hand, by my blade. They're surrounding me, laughing at me, because I'm at their mercy now. The circle gets tighter as they come closer. I'm bleeding and screaming and begging for grace, and the goddesses are laughing right along with the crowd, and they all jump me at once and I'm surrounded by evil. And then I become evil, a shadow of myself, a Dark Link.  
  
And then there's nothing.  
  
To me, the world has only two sides, the split path in the Woods, the face you know is yours and the one you see in the mirror. I haven't looked in a mirror for a long time; the way I live my life, catching a glimpse of my own face in a thing made of fine glass is a rarity.  
  
Somehow, I can't turn my back on that small clearing where nothing grows, so I back away from it until the brown, lifeless patch is hidden by undergrowth. I turn around, and notice a small, still pool just before I step in it. I look down, wanting to see my face, my eyes, even though I can feel that both are frozen. I look down, and see nothing.  
  
My reflection is gone. It's as if it was never there in the first place. That's when I know that I might as well be dead. I thought I still had some time left, but it's run out. Hah! How could time run out for someone who doesn't even know which timeline he belongs in? How could time run out for the *Hero of Time*?  
  
I curl up into a ball and sob. It's over. I'm dead.  
  
Then a cry floats out of the woods, not too far away from me. It sounds familiar, like I should know it but I don't. A cry in a voice from a timeline that never should have happened. Or a timeline that was my destiny, the timeline I ran away from?  
  
All of this philosophy stuff is starting to hurt my head.  
  
I clear my mind and get up, pulling out the Kokiri Sword, the blade I should have returned a long time ago, the one that's starting to be too small for my longer fingers. It's more like a long dagger now, and I've been using it like one more often as of late. I really should have it forged into a sword more suited for my size.  
  
Now laughter is echoing through the Woods. Cruel, cold laughter that sends chills up and down my spine. Do I laugh like that? I haven't been happy in three years.  
  
No, it's not my laughter. I peek around a huge, ancient, and no doubt magical tree, and see a small puppet-like figure standing over a man with flaming red hair and a huge traveling sack strapped to him. The outside of it is covered in masks. Their empty eyes stare at me, laughing.  
  
The puppet is rooting through the bag. I see the reed flute in its hand when it holds up one particular mask. The yellow eyes in the purple face, the red and green spines on the edges-I *knew* that mask, even though I'd never seen it before.  
  
*Hero* of Time!   
  
Pain begins in my leg, in the exact center of the small black spot just a hand span above my ankle. I wince. I mean, it *hurts*!  
  
You will pay, Hero.   
  
It spreads, shooting through my body from that point in my leg. I whistle through my teeth, hoping the puppet won't hear me.  
  
You're mine to the death. Don't deny it.   
  
Whoever the hell is speaking in my head, I really wish they'd stop. It's kind of painful.  
  
The yellow and red eyes glow, piercing my tortured brain, my diminished soul. They tell my of my destiny, of how I'll be ripped apart piece by piece, of how the mouth belonging to those eyes will drink my blood, and slowly consume my flesh, chewing each mouthful delightedly, closing those pure evil eyes as the taste of my skin was savored, how it would slowly pick through my splintered bones, picking its teeth with them. How only my ghost would survive, and be forced to watch as my body was eaten half- alive.  
  
Tears are leaking through my own invisible mask. My stomach is doing flip - flops. It *hurts*, dammit, and it won't stop! What *is* that thing, and why does it want to hurt me so badly?  
  
You owe it to me, Kokiri. Don't walk away. The Goddesses have given me the right of vengeance. You are *mine* to destroy as I please. You will *not* WALK AWAY!   
  
My feet stop shuffling backwards of their own accord and instead walk towards that floating face without a body, held in the hands of some small stick-child. My whole body shakes with my efforts to break free, but I'm trapped in the trance. I'm barely conscious; my mind is just tagging along for the ride.  
  
I can feel the tops of my feet brushing along the grass. I'm floating like a carcass, towards the creature that *will* make me into a carcass. I can see the mask smiling at me.  
  
What the-  
  
It screams aloud in agony as the stick-kid puts it on, giggling that cold, heartless giggle. It makes me feel twisted and cruel myself. I wish he would stop it.  
  
The mask has settled on the kid's face. The fire in its eyes is extinguished, but a small glimmer still remains. The agony has faded to a numbed throbbing instead of burning. I almost sigh in relief; then I realize what the kid's staring at. First, I'm a scarred, barely teenage body in the middle of a clearing. Second, I'm a scarred, barely teenage body *floating* in the middle of a clearing. The kid screams.  
  
I immediately drop to the ground, the spell broken. And it feels like my feet are broken, too. When I fell, I fell right on the top of my feet, where you are *not* supposed to walk. I lay sprawled like a rag doll in the grassy meadow.  
  
My hands somehow find the ground, and I lever myself up onto my feet, managing to take a few shaky steps before I fall flat on my face again. As soon as my eyes close, the world around me starts spinning. I see the creature chewing on my ragged, defeated body-  
  
I sit up, fighting for breath, hoping it was just a figment of my imagination-and it is. The stick-child is staring into my eyes through the mask. My throat croaks when I try to ask a question. He holds up a finger to silence me, and I shut up.  
  
"What are you doing here? You look like Kokiri, but you smell-strange."  
  
I grunt.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
I roll over on my stomach and cover my head with my arms, trying to shut that damn mask out until I can figure this out. But the kid isn't willing to give up that easily. He kicks me, hard, in the ribcage.  
  
"Hey, you! Wake up!"  
  
I turn over, feeling my face contort into the frustration and hatred for that *damn* mask rolling around in the depths of my body.  
  
"Kid, just shut up and take off the mask! It's evil!"  
  
His eyes widen, then narrow, and I know there's going to be trouble now that I opened my big stupid mouth.  
  
"You big fat meanie! I'm going! Don't follow me, or I'll kick you!"  
  
When there's a flash of yellow in those forest eyes, I know that this is only the beginning.  
  
As he scuttles off, my imagination sees two bobbing spheres of light follow him. I lay back and groan through my teeth, covering my eyes with my only recently gloved hands. I rub out the grit from the day, then just let my hand lay across the bridge of my nose, blocking out the world for once.  
  
A small bug flies past, and I hear and feel it landing on the tip of my ear. I lay still for a minute, thinking. Am I like that little bug? Do I really matter in the big scheme of things?  
  
I swat it away from my ear, and do the same with the thoughts in my mind. But then that little voice comes back.  
  
*Not everything in life can be just swatted away in an instant. Remember that.*  
  
I tell it to shut up, and slip into a full-moon sleep, my senses tuned in to everything around me, even allowing me to feel the grass slowly being flattened beneath me.  
  
When it fades away, the shadows come.  
  
***  
  
Just in case you couldn't figure it out, this story is from Link's perspective, and Navi is nowhere to be found.  
  
Just checking.  
  
Thank you again, Kokeshi!!! Your ideas are wonderful!!  
  
I'll try to come up with the next bit soon.  
  
-Shawshank 


	2. Part Two: The Sea

Just in case you couldn't figure it out, this story is from Link's perspective, and Navi is nowhere to be found. Also, this will *not* be a complete copy of Majora's Mask, or Kokeshi's poems. Now *that* would be infringement.

Just checking.

Thank you again, Kokeshi!!! Your ideas are wonderful!!

I'll try to come up with the next bit soon.

-Shawshank

Part Two – The Sea

The sea.

It must be the most beautiful thing in the world, even though I've never seen it before – until now. As the sun sets over the water, I watch it, my heart breaking along with the waves on the shore. The lonely calls of the gulls pierce my thoughts. The roaring water soothes me, and I lay back on the sand, suddenly tired. Then I realize the truth.

I've been tired; not just now, but for a long time. I've been tired since I discovered that my whole life would be years of restless wandering, searching for the truth about everything. I've been tired since I found out that I could know everything and I especially couldn't know myself. 

I've been tired since I understood that the one person I had loved since before I even knew her didn't really care to know I existed. 

Right now, though, I'm at peace. It's a strange feeling, peace – it's like just *not* feeling. Instead of the constant aching, there's nothing. Not even numbness. 

Just…nothing.

The foamy water rushes up and bathes my feet, sealing up all of my blisters and making my scars disappear. I wiggle further into my spot on the smooth, warm sand, not caring that I'll get sand in my hair and clothes. When I open my eyes, the sky is darkening in time with the sinking sun. 

I used to think I belonged to the forest, if for no reason other than I had grown up in it. I loved the trees and the thick, damp vegetation; I loved the insects and ferns and the specks of magic all the same. The smell of earth on my hands was the sweetest perfume I knew. I was reluctant to leave the forest at first, and not only because I thought I'd die. I didn't want to leave all that I had come to know – I was afraid of what I had never seen before. I didn't want to leave my only friend in the world, Saria. I just couldn't leave what had been my childhood.

That all changed when I saw the field.

Hyrule Field is seen by most as a useless plain. For them, it just makes the journey between cities longer and more dangerous. They don't want the field there. For me, it was different. I didn't care that I could have been killed within seconds. It was an open space, bigger than any I had seen before. It was amazing! The grass beneath my feet was dry and long, not damp and short and cared for, like it was in Kokiri. No, the grass here was wild, untamed and free to grow wherever it wanted to. There were overgrown paths, but they didn't matter. All that counted was the openness, the total freedom and the luxury to go wherever you wanted. 

I soon found the little river on the left side of the castle, which I still hadn't worked up the courage to enter. Yeah, I admit it, I was a chicken – but, this was a *Princess* we were talking about, here! What I didn't know then was that the idiots in the castle didn't even know the Kokiri existed – all of the messengers and explorers they had sent to the forest had never come back, so they assumed that they had been lost. And if their messengers had gotten lost so easily, then it was *obvious* that anyone else who tried to live there would get lost, too. Us Kokiri, however, knew different. We had seen the results of their various expeditions to the forest; we had heard them transforming into monsters. Thanks to the castle, we had an overpopulation of Stalfos, and guess who was 'volunteered' to go and kill some of them? Yep, you got it. Me.

After all, I was the most adept Kokiri in the forest – at fighting, anyway. Not at making friends. Even after I came back successful, having killed one extremely pissed off Stalfos, nobody seemed to really care. They figured that my story of a glowing ball of light zooming out of nowhere and bopping the thing on the head was nonsense. So, I was labelled the forest lunatic - *again* - and promptly ignored. Even Saria had a little trouble believing me, until I told her that I couldn't remember anything after that.

It was true, though. After the ball of light bonked the Stalfos, everything went black. My next memory was of staggering into the waterfall pool, staining its clear water with bright red ribbons of blood. 

That was my first sign that I was *different.* Kokiri blood was a dark red, so dark it was almost grown – mine was practically neon red. I knew I was healthy, so I wondered what was wrong with me. Maybe the Stalfos had poison on its sword – maybe I was dying! But, no. The healing properties of the pool took hold, and I sat in the pure water, watching as my strange blood was absorbed into the moist bank. I moved to sit under the softly falling waterfall, enjoying the numbing feeling of it crashing down on me.  

Then I fell backwards into the water, watching helplessly as it covered my face. There *was* poison on that blade – the Stalfos had covered it in Milkweed, a plant that, if eaten and absorbed into the blood, caused total paralysis and eventually death. 

The Stalfos had cut me and made me bleed. I knew the effects of Milkweed – I had accidentally eaten it, a long time ago, mistaking it for a dandelion leaf. I had almost died, before Saria came back from the lost woods with a strange red plant that I didn't recognize. 

I watched tiny bubbles flow out of my mouth in a steady stream. Now I would drown, and air was mere centimetres away. I hated this feeling of helplessness. I knew that I had been poisoned, and I knew that if I could just sit up, I could breathe – but no. The surface was too far away, and the Milkweed concentration was too strong. I would drown in the shallows of the Healing Pool, held down by the waterfall I had loved since I first saw it. How ironic. 

When my vision started to cloud, a few minutes later, I saw a wobbly shadow pass by through my peripheral vision. I blew an extra big bubble, feeling my chest compress. The shadow wobbled in place, and as the clear spot above my face faded away, I saw Mido's face through it. I mentally sighed. That was the end of my last hope. Mido would rather watch me drown than do anything – I knew that for a fact. 

I closed my eyes and ignored the thrashing of the water around me as it all wilted away.

*** 

The sweet, mellow sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the leaves at the very tops of the trees greeted me as I opened my eyes. From what I could tell, it was early morning – the sun was gentle, and the world had this feeling about it like it was stretching, or coming out of the sweetest dream. I had that feeling too – it was a beautiful feeling. I saw several large, crimson leaves laying on the stump in the middle of my treehouse, with a bowl beside them. I got up, my bare feet warm on the old wooden floor. There was a strange reddish paste in the bowl, and when I held it to my face, it stank like nothing else. I stuck out my tongue and put it down, going to my dresser to pull out one of my many white shirts, wrestling it on over my head. Just when I got stuck with my arms above my head, a voice interrupted my peaceful solitude.

"What do you think you're doing out of bed? 

I tugged hard on the shirt, forcing it down over my head. I squinted, trying to make out the person standing in the doorway, framed by bright light. It was Saria.

"You have to rest! Get back in bed!"

"I just got up! I'm not tired!"

She walked over to me with a determined look on her face. I held back a gulp.

"I don't care if you're tired or not. You need to heal."

I stepped around her, heading out into the light.

"I'm just going to walk around for a bit. Then I'll rest. I can't sit in a bed for my whole life."

She climbed down the ladder as she spoke. "Well, you've *been* in bed for the past week."

I sat on the edge of my little balcony in awe. "A week, huh? I've got a lot of living to do!"

Saria looked up at me, then broke down laughing. "Well, you're going to have to rest up a lot more before you can start 'living'."

I smiled at her and dropped down, landing heavily on my ankles. Then the shock kicked in, and I danced around in pain, picking up my feet and clenching my teeth. My mood darkened when she practically fell over laughing. I walked off, shoulders hunched. 

"Fine. Be that way."

Her eyes immediately went all watery, and I cursed myself for being ten kinds of a fool.

"Link, I'm sorry." Of course, the side of me that had been teased and laughed at for my whole life wouldn't listen to the side of me that screamed to keep the one friend I had.

"Saria…I just want to be alone, okay? Just leave me alone."

She sighed and walked away, dragging her feet and leaving two trails of discoloured grass. My heart sank even lower, and I walked off alone, not paying any attention to where I was going. 

That was why, when I ended up in the Lost Woods, I was surprised. I spun around in circles, looking at the grass and trying to figure out where I had come from; however, the magic in the air had given water back to the grass as soon as it was deprived of it, so there was no telltale discolouration.

I stopped where I stood when I heard soft weeping echoing around me. 

I tried to follow it, but I soon found it impossible. The trees were amplifying the sound, and whenever I tried to follow it, it sounded like it was coming from somewhere else.

When the sobs quieted down and the rich, haunting melody of a fairy ocarina came floating through the thick air to my waiting ears. The sound was so clear and perfect that it didn't echo, and I was able to follow it through the awakening woods to a strange thicket. 

Saria sat on a stump at the far end playing her Ocarina, and a huge stone slab lay on the ground between us. Close to the wall of trees on the left was a round stone with an oddly familiar eye carved on it. The eye caught my gaze, and it stared at me, stopping me in my tracks. It told me of before, of now, and of what was still to come. I shuddered, and it smirked at me with an invisible mouth. 

I tore my gaze away somehow, and looked at my feet. I suddenly realized that I was walking up a flight of stairs that was more like a ramp, because the steps were so old and worn that you could see the grass poking up in the cracks. I became aware of the feeling of ancientness about the place, like I was stepping through an invisible portal and back in time. I shivered and kept looking at the clearing that called to me.

Above Saria's head, a broken off flight of stairs led to a gaping doorway. An old, rotting tree stuck up oddly right beside the stairs, and strands of ivy formed a curtain over the doorway. The whole structure was made of stone, and built right into the thick brush. It looked like it had been there since the beginning of time, and it fit right into the forest, almost enough so that you wouldn't really notice it unless you were wide awake and looking for it. 

I looked even harder, and saw that Saria wasn't alone in the clearing. 

A woman with long, wild, and wavy brown hair with ivy woven into it was sitting beside her, leaning her back against the mossy stump. She was staring at the sky, and her eyes were a shade of blue that made me think of utter freedom and joy. Her body was draped in ivy and purple blossoms, and a short toga made of supple brown leather kept her decency. She had dirt under her fingernails, and she was barefoot. She had a look about her like she was above everything else, and though her skin was browned with sun, it had an ever-so-faint pattern of sun dapples on it. She looked like she *belonged* to the forest, and the forest belonged to her all at the same time. Her hair brushed the ground as she turned to face my direction. Her eyes darkened to a deep blue that made me think of midnight, and she stared right at me. She got up to meet me, and she walked towards me with the grace of something old and wise beyond anything I had ever known. I held my breath as she came close, not wanting to breathe lest she vanish. She smiled a bit at me and gestured at me, bidding me to come closer. I took a shy step forward, and she kissed my forehead. I felt a spell wash over me, and I looked up at her in wonder. 

"What is this, my lady?" She held a finger to her lips, and spoke without making a sound.

( Come and see, child. )

I followed her over to Saria, and I took in my breath sharply when I saw the bright trails on her cheeks that showed she had been crying. The beautiful lady heard me and looked down at me, disapproval in her gaze.

( You hurt your friend, Child of the Forest. You are far too rash. Perhaps you are not who we thought. )

I felt a sudden need to prove myself. She smiled again and clamped a hand over my mouth.

( No. Do not make a sound. We are invisible to Saria. )

I walked in front of her, watching as her face muscles contorted in some sourceless pain. 

( The source of her pain is you. Now do you see what you do to others who are not so cruel as you? )

I nodded and let my head hang. She laughed lightly, and small strings of light danced in the air around her.

( Now you know. You will not hurt others again, will you? )

I shook my head no, feeling very chastened. She nodded in self – satisfaction, then turned as if to go. I stretched out a hand after her, wanting to ask her a million questions. She stopped and turned her head sideways, not quite looking at me. 

( You have questions for me, boy? So does everyone who meets me. Perhaps I should hide away where no one can find me. I do not like answering questions that cannot be answered. You will know who I am in time, boy. You will know. )

She turned back to face the trees, which seemed to be stretching out their branches to her, begging her to come back to them.

( I will answer one question that I feel burning in your mind. My name is of no importance, and I cannot tell you who I am. I can tell you who you are. )

She whirled around suddenly, her eyes on fire. I felt the spell of invisibility weakening on my skin.

( You are a Child of the Forest. Never let anyone tell you differently. ) She bent down to stare into my face. ( Never let the Lost Woods leave your heart, Link. If you do, you will never find peace. Remember this well, and never tell anyone of our meeting. I bind you to secrecy for all of your days. )

She turned again and faded into thin air, leaving me to appear in front of Saria, who suddenly had a lot of questions. I shushed her and apologized, holding her when her tears flowed onto my shoulder. I promised to be her friend forever, and to never hurt her again.

At least I kept that promise.

The tide has come in now, and the water is up to my chin. Instead of trying to escape my certain fate, I let the water come. I wanted to go floating off over the horizon, and never come back. I *wanted* to leave it all behind. 

I only panicked when the water became tar, a black, sucking pool filled with the bones of all the beings I had ever killed. Their hands pulled at my clothing and my ankles, and I floundered in the thick mess, looking for a way out. I grabbed onto the brightly painted boat that had suddenly appeared, but to no avail. The bubbling tar pulled me under, and the bones danced around me in glee. I opened my eyes and saw the surface, a million miles away. Then my feet sank into the mud at the bottom of the ocean of black. 

I screamed.

*** 

I sat up abruptly, my skin chilled because of the dew that had gathered on the grass during the night. I sucked in air, hoping to forget the sea of tar that was still fresh in my mind. 

I fell backwards, and the dew sunk into my clothes and made them stick to my back. My hair was damp now, and I was starting to get really cold.

Night had fallen while I was asleep, and the stars overhead twinkled brightly. I remembered where I was.

I was lost in the Lost Woods – oh, the irony. The skull kid, the freaky talking mask… all of it comes rushing back to me. I shake my head, trying to clear my cluttered head. It's only then that I notice the bony hand on my shoulder. 

I jerk away from it, afraid that it might be a Stalfos; only when I look up at the face that owns the hand do I stop. It's the man with the red hair and inhumanly huge grin, whose eyes never seem to be open. He is leaning over me, not just to wake me up, but to stop himself from tumbling backwards due to the huge sack on his bent back. I stand up slowly to face him, thinking that he must get some pretty bad back pains in the morning. He bows to me in ancient Hylian custom, and I bow back. I'm starting to like this guy.

"Well, hello there, young man. What might you be doing here?"

I decide the real story is way too long, so I cut it short. "I'm looking for…something." 

"Ah. I think that is what we are all doing, hmm? Looking for something. Do you know what it is you are looking for?"

I shook my head, sighing. "No, not really. I'm just looking, I guess."

"I see, young man. Well, I wish you luck, I suppose."

I look at him like he just grew an extra head. He's the only person I've ever met who hasn't asked me for something. People expect so much from a hero…

"Yeah, good luck to you too."

I turn to go, walking off in the direction the skull kid went yesterday. I'm stopped by that same thin hand grabbing onto the back of my tunic. His high – pitched voice is in my ear.

"Boy, I can help you if you help me."

I whirl around, effectively forcing him to let go of me.

"What? What are you talking about? No one can help me. It's too late."

He winks at me, like he actually knows what I'm talking about.

"That's where you're wrong. It is never too late. About that scar on your leg…"

"Yes? What about it?"

"It is not an ordinary scar, is it?"

"What's it to you? Get to the point!"

He half turns away. "Well, if you feel that way about it, I guess I won't help you after all…"

I stop him. "Wait. I'm sorry. Please, tell me what you mean."

He turns back to me, the goofy grin back in place.

"I can heal the effects of that scar. Of course, I can't get rid of the scar itself, but I know someone who can do that for you."

I narrow my eyes at him. "And what would you want in return?"

His grin widens, if that's even possible. "I want you to find my mask."

I gulp, hard. "Which mask is that?"

He pulls a little book out from some hidden pocket in his purple jacket. He flips through the pages, clicking his tongue, then stops at one with a loud, "Ah ha!" He folds the book open and hands it to me upside down. I turn it around slowly, dreading what I might see. 

It's there. Those eyes, the spikes, the cryptic designs carved into a heart – shaped slab of wood. I almost throw the ratty book down.

"This is Majora's Mask. This is the mask I need back. If I do not get it back soon, I feel that very dangerous things will begin to happen!" He turns the page for me, and the picture changes to a bunch of silhouettes dancing around a fire, intricately painted.

"This mask was used in ancient hexing rituals, until the evil was chased from it. But as of late, I've felt that that mask has had a mind of its own! I dared not put it on, for fear it might possess me; but whomever has stolen it from me will obviously not be so cautious."

His long, almost translucent finger trailed onto the next page, and I followed it. There was a figure that I was pretty sure was human, wearing Majora's Mask. A powerful aura of purple radiated from the human, and all around it was darkness. I swallowed again.

"As you can see, Majora's Mask has great power. The longer this mask is free of the spell I cast on it, the more power it will gain, until it can destroy entire worlds! You *must* find this mask and bring it to me!"

I almost started to shake my head, until I realized that many, many people would die if I didn't find this mask. Still, that little voice in the back of my head whispered, "No. Don't do it. More people will die if you go! You will have to kill if you go!" I ignored it and nodded, sealing my fate.

I started to walk off, but his voice halted me in my tracks. 

"But…there is one thing." I turned to him, waiting. "I am a very busy person, and I must leave this place in three days' time. You must bring the mask to me before the three days are up."

I advanced on him, my temper having boiled over the breaking point while he spoke.

"WHAT? ARE YOU INSANE?! YOU WANT WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE THE MOST DANGEROUS MASK IN ANY OF THE WORLDS, AND YOU'RE GOING TO JUST *LEAVE* IN THREE DAYS, EVEN IF I DON'T FIND IT?!"

He shuffled his feet around. "Yes, that's pretty much it."

"AND WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO IF I *DON'T* FIND IT, HUH? WHAT THEN?"

He waited for my breathing to slow back down. I clenched my teeth and my fists, counted silently to ten, then released the breath I had been holding. The red hot part of my anger flowed out of me, and just the ice coldness was left.

"You will find it. You will find it in the three days. How do I know this? I do not."

I just stared at him.

"I know you will find my mask. You are destined to find it. I see it in your eyes."

My anger completely escaped me, although I tried to hold on to it. I felt alive when I was angry. I just nodded and left the clearing, shaking off the fear of something unknown to me. 

"Link!"

I drew my sword in a flash, not caring that I looked really stupid, wielding something about the size of my forearm as if it could save my life, though few were aware that it actually could. But the Woods were empty. Even the weird guy with the hands and the sack was gone, as though he never was. Now that I think of it, he had some of that air around him, like he was above all else. Like the lady with the vines in her hair and the magic in her hands. 

Wait a second. Could he be…like her? An Immortal who did something wrong, fated to live a thousand lifetimes among mortals as punishment? 

Nah. 

***  

When the saviour of the worlds had departed, I followed the Mask Salesman instead of him. I needed to talk to him – he owed me an explanation. But I didn't show myself for a while, and so I overheard his conversation with a fairy I did not know. She seemed to be angry with him.

"What do you mean, you don't know where he went? You have to keep track of these things!"

"I'm sorry, but he walked off, and I could not follow. Strange things happen in these Woods of the Lost. You know that firsthand."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you couldn't have followed him!"

"Yes, it does. For some reason, my magic weakened. We must be close to another world."

"No, really? You *think*? I can feel these things from miles away!"

"Yes, I believe you, but that doesn't change the fact that I cannot become invisible in this part of the woods! The portals between worlds cancel out all kinds of magic, you know that."

"Yes, yes, I know. Well, we'd better start following him, I guess. We can't really find him any other way."

"He will sense you following him. Even now, we are too close."

"Relax. We'll be fine. Loosen up a bit, man! I've been waiting for him for centuries – I'm not going to let him just slip through my fingers!"

"Of course. But…uh…oh, my…"

"What?"

"Turn around."

"Why the -:

"Just do it."

The fairy slowly floated around in midair. I only then saw that the Salesman was gaping straight at me. Now the fairy was as well. Apparently the portal had cancelled out even *my* power. I walked towards them, trying to seem friendly.

"Mask Salesman. We must talk."

He fell to his knees before me, being the humble, good man that he is.

"M-my Lady, y-you wish to talk to m-me?"

"Yes, you. Please, stand up. I am not yet Immortal."

"If I may ask, my Lady, how long?"

My gaze turned from his eyes to the sky. Oh, how I missed my home in the heavens far above!

"When the saviour of the worlds has finished what he is meant to do, I will be returned to my rightful place."

His jaw dropped. 

"My Lady, I apologize. I sent him on a quest -"

"Yes, yes, I know. Do not be concerned. It must happen, along with many other things, before the boy can rest."

"Of course, my Lady."

I spoke to him again, still looking at the sky. Laughter was in my voice. He could always make me laugh.

"Get up, man. You of all people have no need to bow before me. I am still mortal, for now."

He got up, his back bent under the huge sack he always insisted on carrying around for some reason. Even if he had been standing up straight, I would have towered over him. Most of the Immortals were taller than the average Hylian. The small fairy danced around my face. Had the Salesman not put me in such a good mood, I probably would have been annoyed. Now, though, I was merely amused.

"Are you going to help us find Link, my Lady?"

I nodded graciously.

"Yes, I must find him, and tell him what he has to do. Then I must wait…and then, when the time is finally right, I must rest. Salesman?"

"Yes?"

I smiled at him, hoping my eyes were friendly.

"Please, come along. You will be our base. You will tell this fairy and I how soon he will complete his task. Do you agree to this?"

"Yes, my Lady. How could I not agree?"

I smiled at him and laid my hand on his shoulder, feeling him trembling under my touch. I hoped that he was trembling with happiness, not fear. I hated striking fear into the hearts of those I love.

"Be not afraid, Salesman. You are under the protection of all those above."

"I know, my Lady. I do not fear. I rejoice."

"Thank you, Salesman. Now, fairy, we will walk together, as equals. No more 'My Lady' this, and 'My Lady' that. My name, good fairy, is Farore. Please, walk with me, and tell me your name."

As we entered the thick brush, walking side by side as long time friends may do, she spoke slowly, but surely.

"My Lady – I apologize. Farore. Farore, my name is Navi. Navi the fairy."

*** 

Hah! Navi *is* somewhere to be found!

Anyway, not much to say. I love all reviewers, and Kokeshi, for allowing me to write this story!

Sorry it took forever for an update – I got stuck in a feedback loop, and life was getting complex. Anyway, see you next time!

-Shawshank


	3. Part Three: The Mountain

As usual, not much to say. Thanks to any reviewers, and I still love Kokeshi!

-Shawshank

Part Three – The Mountain

So far, I've realized one thing.

Snow is really, *really* cold.

Right now, I'm staggering through the stuff, and I'm pretty sure I'm going uphill. It's above my waist, and in my clothes, and pelting into my eyes and up my nose. (A/N: I'm a poet and I didn't know it!)

I can't think of anything worse than this.

I've had to put up with a lot of crap in my life. I ran around Hyrule for years, trying to – and finally succeeding in – freeing the land from Gannondorf's clutches, only to be sent back in time and have everyone forget about me ever doing it. But my question is, if I destroyed him in the future and was sent back to a point in time *before* I originally left the forest, will I have to do it all over again? 

I hate time paradoxes.

But right now, I don't have much spare energy to puzzle over alternate timelines and futures that will never happen. My clothes are soaked, and even the thick, woollen cloak the astronomer gave me isn't helping. In fact, it's just weighing me down. But I'm afraid that if I let it drop off of my shoulders, I'll be blown away and become part of those looming white clouds that are blanketing the world. 

It's times like these when I *really* miss Navi.

***

"Hey! Who're you?"

A shrimp of a kid, with a red cap and a little spitball shooter was running over to me, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. His cheeks were tinged red because of the strain of shooting air through his shooter, but he still maintained the glowing exuberance of youth. 

I would've been nicer, but I was kind of crabby. After all, I had just walked through a big hollow log, and fallen down into a canyon, and followed the path up to the Clock Tower, and been pushed into the bright light of the street by the highly overenthusiastic, stalker Mask Salesman. Then I had wandered, completely lost, through town, and fended off a thief trying to make off with my sword, and nearly been run over by the postman. And now this little kid with an attitude had the nerve to ask me who I was! I took in a deep breath, ready to shout at him, my frustration having peaked.

"'Cuz I'm Jim. I'm the leader of the Bomber Gang. You look like a good guy – you wanna join?"

I let out the breath in a slow sigh. This kid was being nice, if a little forward. I nodded.

"Okay! But to be a member of my gang, you have to play hide and go seek!" As if on some invisible signal, a bunch of little kids got into a line. "You have to find all of us by tomorrow! Have fun trying!"

Tomorrow! *Tomorrow*! He actually thought I was going to waste my time and play around with him? What a stupid little kid! I clenched my fists and took several deep, slow breaths, calming myself. When I opened my eyes, the kids were gone.

I roared out loud in frustration, earning a threatening look from the guard standing in a dark doorway. I wondered why he was there, and walked up to him. He held out his hands and scrambled around, his armour clinking as he blocked my every attempt to pass him.

"I'm sorry, but only adults are allowed outside the town walls. This way leads to the mountains."

I shook my head, gritted my teeth, and followed the sounds of giggling coming from somewhere near the slide.

In a few hours, I had managed to jump on each one of the Bomber Gang, and they all met me back in North Clock Town, as they called it. Well, at least I had found them before the next *day*, though the sun was beginning to set. I stared up at the ever – present moon as I jogged, following Jim, the kid with the red hat. That was the single scariest moon I have ever seen. It had eyes, a nose, and a grimacing mouth. I could have sworn it had gotten closer in the past few hours…

"OOF! Hey, watch where you're going!"

I looked down in surprise, and saw Jim staring rebelliously up at me. I stared back at him, and watched the little kids all line up, with Jim in the middle. He looked right at my face, and I was almost taken aback by the intensity of his gaze.

"This is our secret code. You can't tell it to anybody. With it, you can get into our hideout in East Clock Town." Yeah, sure, if I could ever *find* East Clock Town in this maze of buildings! Of course, I didn't say this out loud. Instead, I watched in muted amazement as the kids turned around one by one, flashing me a set of numbers that I hurriedly tried to burn into my memory.

"32451! That's our code! Write it down so you don't forget."

I would write it down, if I was at all literate…

Jim smiled at me for a second, or at least I thought he did. Next second, though, I was sure I had imagined it, because the Gang had all run back to their hiding places, and I was left to stare like an idiot into empty space. 

The darkness in me growled at the guard, who was staring at me like I was a wandering fool, and headed off in the opposite direction, through one of the many black doorways made for a giant.

***

I trip over a rock buried in the snow, and sink into the thick powder face first. I just lay there with my eyes closed, listening to my own slow breathing. That part of me that's obsessed with duty and promises screams at me to get up, to keep walking, but I just push it out of my head, letting a part of me fly away on the howling wind. And, suddenly, the wind isn't the only thing that's howling. 

Not that I really care any more. Nobody in this world cares about me, or even knows I exist. And why should they? I'm just a shell. I have no soul. I'm a murderer. They should lock me up and leave me to rot, somewhere far away from other people. 

It's kind of odd, really. I've been so isolated, so far away from other people for all of my life, and yet, I can't seem to get used to it. The only good thing about being alone is the silence. The rest – the lack of something to stimulate my thoughts, just the *lack* - I hate that. I hate being by myself. My burdens are too hard to bear alone. Navi was my friend, but… lately, I've felt like I need something more. Something deeper, with more meaning. 

And then my thoughts always turn to *her*. I start hating myself for my weakness, and something inside me seals up, like I'm closing another door between me and a room I've been blocked off from my whole life. And the thing is, unlike most other closed doors I've come across, I *don't* want to open this one. I don't want to see what's beyond that rotten wood and those rusted hinges. I know, somehow, that what's behind that door will drive me insane… or kill me. I'm not sure which, but it scares me. And that's not a feeling I'm used to.

*** 

I stumbled up the amazingly coloured stairs, dripping water and gripping my side where the stupid Skulltulla got in a good swipe. Jim never warned me about a Skulltulla! Not one word! Oh well. I survived, and I guess that's always the most important part, even if I was cold and soaked through the skin.

An old man with a hunched back was peering through the telescope, and he only noticed me when I cleared my throat loudly. He gave me the old hairy eyeball and sat me down on a violently coloured couch, pouring me some hot tea in a violently coloured cup and wrapping a surprisingly non – violently coloured blanket around me. The blanket was grey and wool, and quite warm, if a little itchy. I attempted to smile, making my mouth twitch, and thanked the man, who I assumed was the astronomer. He smiled and shushed me, and dragged over a rainbow riot chair, sitting across from me and staring at me as I drank my tea. His gaze travelled up to my eyes, and I felt my throat constrict. It was like his eyes were burning coals, and they were forcing holes right through me, in one side and out the other. I stared uncomfortably at my tea, which I had only taken a few sips of. I've never been fond of taking drinks from strangers, but this man was obviously a friend of the Bombers, so he couldn't be all bad. Besides, I figured he had some practice with the whole tea and blanket ritual – he did me up in two seconds like I was just one in a long line. 

"The Bombers sometimes get colds from walking through the water, and the tea and blanket helps. But I have a feeling that you're not so susceptible to illnesses."

"No, probably not."

He smiled at me. 

"You new in town? What are you here for?"

"I'm looking for something."  
He smiled at me and slapped his knee with a knarled old hand.

"Ah, that's it! We're being mysterious, so it must be something important! You can tell me, boy, nobody listens to an old astronomer who's half crazed with loneliness, and the other half with old age."

I shook my head slowly, reluctant to loose my tongue. "I'm sorry, but this is my business. It's important to me that I find…what I'm looking for."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Well, I s'pose that's important to everybody who's looking for something, right, sonny? Come on, now, old Maurice is too stiff to help you out in the world, but maybe he can help you in here." He poked me in the chest, right over my heart. I sighed, knowing that there was nothing under his finger.

"I don't have a heart. I killed an innocent, and I was cursed."

He nodded. "Ah, Maurice is cursed too. I'm cursed to live in this old body until I die, and I bin around so long, I don't know how far off that is! I got another curse, and that's the worse kind in the world – well, maybe not as bad as yours, but besides it, maybe."  
I looked up at him, interested despite myself. "How are you cursed, Maurice?"

He looked up at me, and his old blue eyes misted over.

"Well, sonny, hard as it may be to believe, I was in love once. Her name was Tara, and we were going to get married – until her father found out I was an astronomer. He didn't want his daughter to marry a man whose gaze was always on the stars. So they moved out of town, and I've never seen head nor tail of them since."

I closed my eyes when I spoke. "That sounds terrible."

"Oh, it was, for the first little while. Then I realized that I could live without her, I could live by myself; my stars are enough company for me. Still, I miss her, boy. That was…oh, I don't know how long ago. Too long ago to count the years that have passed since."

I half – smiled, and squeezed my eyes shut. "I think I might be cursed with something like that too."

He grinned at me. "Was she beautiful?"

I sighed, despite myself. "Oh, she was more beautiful than words. She made me feel like I could do anything, anything I needed to do. In the end, though… in the end, she betrayed me, sort of." I looked up at him, the smile completely gone from my face. "I've never really been able to forgive her."

"You better get around to it, boy! You don't want to end up like me – and old, lonely man."

I almost laughed. "Well, I'm afraid it is too late. I'm afraid it is much too late. I'll have to live and die a lonely man."

He shook his head and put a hand on my shoulder. "Then I pity you, boy. And I wish you luck in looking for whatever it is you're looking for."

I looked up at the old man, who was now bustling about, putting away the teapot and chair.

"Listen, can I ask something of you? I need to get out of town, but the guard won't let me by."

He nodded slowly.

"Yes, yes, I can give you a lift over my fence. Here, you take that cloak with you. Old Maurice don't need a travellin' cloak no more. He can see all the stars just fine from here."

"Thank you, Maurice. I owe you a debt."

"Oh, don't be silly, boy! You don't owe me anything. In fact, I owe you. Remembering Tara – it almost made me feel young again, and for that, I'll help you however I can."

He held open a brightly coloured door for me, and I stepped through, putting the cloak on properly. The astronomer held out his hands for me to step in and get over the fence, but I just took a small run and hopped over, clearing it by only a few centimetres. He smiled at me.

"Well, I offered, but it looks like you can make it on your own two feet. Now, some last advice, boy."

I stared at him through the fence, waiting.

"This is strange land to you, ain't it? Well, you don't go dashing off. Take it nice and slow, be careful, and you'll survive. And also, take this." He passes me a strange shell through the fence. 

"This is a conch shell. If you blow it, any sentient being within hearing range will assist you. But only use it if you have no other choice, remember! If you blow it too often, no one will come to your aid."

I nodded and pocketed the shell, and waved goodbye to the old man. With his words ringing through my head, I ran towards the mountains, far, far away.

*** 

The cold from the snow is numbing my body and my heart, or what's left of it. My eyes are closed, and in my mind's eye, I'm standing at the end of a long hallway, and at the end opposite to me is a door. I know that behind it are countless other doors, all at the end of impossibly long hallways filled with traps that could kill you in an instant. But, forever away, behind those countless doors and inescapable traps, is a room filled with that *something*. It's warm, and the mere thought of it fills me with something I've never experienced before, something I can't give a name to. I want that *something* out of my head.

I watch as the silvery coldness radiates from me, freezing all it touches. It slowly creeps past all those doors, going through them without opening them. Then, it comes to that room with agonizing slowness. I want it to take over that room, to make sure that whatever is in that room is gone forever. 

But the huge, ancient door to that room is not like all the others. When the frost tentatively reaches out, the door opens, and I catch a brief glimpse of something before the silver lunges in and kills everything there. But, before everything is gone, a voice screams my name, leaving me hollow and aching for answers. 

But now I'm beyond the point of caring, even though what was in that room, what I killed, was what I've been searching for all these years. I just don't care. Maybe that's what scares me the most. I'm not sure about anything anymore. 

I flip onto my back and open my eyes as something powerful washes through me, and my whole body tenses for an instant. My breath catches, and I can't breathe. My lungs have frozen, along with the rest of me. I wonder what the hell is happening, and as I watch, the sky clouds over, and lightning flashes. Magic erupts from me, spilling out from my eyes and ears and through my skin, forcing its way out into the world. I'm screaming in pain, but I'm deaf to even my own voice. My brain is a whirlwind of agony, and my eyes water as the world comes alive around me. The trees shudder, knocking more snow onto the ground and onto me. Whatever I just loosed is destroying me, but the amazing thing is, for just a millionth of a moment, the constant dull ache from the hard black tumour under my skin disappears, and I almost feel like I'm alive again. 

I can almost remember feeling like this once before. I can't quite put a name to it, but it's the most wonderful feeling in the world – it's like I'm flying, and all of my ghosts and doors and fears and responsibilities have been left of the ground. For just a moment, I feel pure, until the magic and the intense sensation fades and the darkness rushes back in, pulling a cloak over my vision. I scrub with callous fingers at my eyes, but before I know it, it's over.

Could it be…before I can think, another one of those memories that haven't happened to me yet makes my eyes roll up into my head.

*** 

"It's over…it's finally over…"

The beautiful woman who haunts my dreams looks at me, smiling. And I can feel myself smiling back. It hurts my mouth, because I haven't smiled since this whole thing started, but I don't really care. She's worth smiling. She's the only person or thing worth smiling for in this world.

I turn to her, and start to reach out, to pull her into the embrace I've been waiting for over the long and painful course of seven years. The fairy flutters over our heads, and I stare deep into that woman's clouded aquamarine eyes, wondering how she can look so confused and so sure of herself all at once. It was like when we first met – she knew what to do, but she was afraid to take the first step, afraid of where it might lead us to. And now it's come down to this.

The world is dark and evil around us, but for once that doesn't matter. We've come through. We've done it. It's finally over, just like she said. And right now, in this one short second of happiness, I am finally free of everything. I've never felt better in my life.

And even as she pulls out of my grasp and gasps, staring over my shoulder, I'm still only half – aware of what's going on around me – the worst mistake a warrior can make. Because out of nowhere, a huge sword made of metal that is obviously alien to this world swings down, forcing the rock beside me out of its way. I whirl, and block the next swing that's aimed for my heart, but my sword goes flying out of my numb hands, whirling straight for that woman. I watch it, my eyes wide, wanting to spring at her and throw her aside but unable to move. She steps to the side, and the sword buries itself deep into the rock at her side. She gazes at me, horrified, her eyes bright with terror, and I stare back.

But even as I turn to face the monster empty – handed, I can still feel her gaze on my shoulders. And I know that, even if I fail now, I've already won. You know why?

Because I've been free all along. Although it took me most of my life to figure it out, now I know that I *am* free. 

And when the beast swings at me, crying out and laughing in turns, I can already see which one of us will walk away from this place a free man. It doesn't really matter who lives or dies, because even if I don't make it out of this alive, I'll have lived at least for a moment, which is good enough for me.

Besides, if I do die, I won't be the only one burning in hell. I'm taking this thing with me, no matter what.

The woman who first gave me chains and then caged me screams as the swords cut into my skin.

*** 

It passes just as quickly as it comes, and I sink back into the snow. The white sky blinds me in an instant, so I squint, shielding my eyes with my long eyelashes. Out of the never - ending field of white, two specks of black peer at me. As my eyes adjust, I can see that the two specks are eyes, and I can start to feel hot breathing on my neck. I immediately stiffen and hold my breath again, praying to the Goddesses for salvation. Of course, when have the Goddesses ever been on *my* side? The Wolfos sniffs at me again, then roughly bites my tunic, its teeth scraping the skin beneath. It drags me through the snow to Goddess knows where, and when I chance looking back, I see little bright red droplets littering the snow. I gulp again and don't move, hoping that if I play dead, the Wolfos will leave me. Of course, knowing my luck, it doesn't.

Just for a moment, one single instant, I actually thought I was free.

*** 

WARNING: For the faint of heart. This next passage is disturbing. If you are sensitive to bloody images, please skip down to the next set of stars, and don't get mad at me, because I DID warn you.

It's a curious sensation, being eaten alive.

Usually, if you dream about it, you wake up just as the first set of teeth begins to gnaw on you. You sit up in bed with your heart pounding and thoughts racing, thanking the Goddesses it was just a dream. However, those rare few who actually *have* been eaten alive are, obviously, no longer around to tell the tale.

Except me. Of course, I won't be alive for much longer.

Once you get over the pain, the smell, the need to retch and the numbness, being eaten alive is…interesting, in a gruesome sort of way. Not that I'm suggesting you run out and get eaten yourself – I'm just saying.

It's like being peeled, sort of. Layer by layer, those teeth are coming closer to your innermost self, and you're powerless to stop it because pain and blood loss have made you only half awake.

The Wolfos is chewing away my lower right leg, slowly, ever so slowly. It's almost like it knows I'm alive, and it *wants* to make me hurt. The strangest thing is, Wolfos only eat their prey *after* they're sure it's dead. I know this for a fact. Why is this one different? It's not like it doesn't have the energy to do it, what with the way it's taking its sweet time devouring me bit by tiny bit. This is *wrong*, I know it. 

When I lift my head to look down at my leg, the sight that greets me isn't very nice. The main thing I see is blood. But, poking up out of the mess, there's a little black splotch. It's that damn scar! For some reason, the Wolfos is chewing *around* the scar, like it knows that this is the evil part of me, the part that cannot be denied. Should I be comforted by the thought that once the Wolfos eats away my body, I'll still have that black inner core? 

*** END OF WARNING*** 

As if sensing my gaze, the beast whips its shaggy head up to look me in the eye. It has its front paws lying on my leg, and it's eating the part between them. It sniffs at me, as if puzzled, then gets up and walks over to my face. I let my head fall onto the frozen ground, and the lapse in pain lets me see that I'm actually in a cave of sorts. My view is blocked by the Wolfos' snout, which is sniffing at my face. I let my head fall to the side, unwilling to look at those bloodstained teeth for a single second longer than I have to. I look around me and see a whole bunch of little snowballs, all perfectly round and lying haphazardly around the small frozen cave. Even as I watch, one of them sprouts eyes and rustles around, waking up the others. They all bounce towards me, baring rows of tiny little razor-sharp teeth, whiter than snow. The Wolfos hears them and whirls around, snapping its teeth at them. They back off, if a little grumpily, and settle down to wait, their little orange eyes fading back to white. So, these are the creatures that will pick over my bones when the Wolfos is done with me. I shiver and gulp down the lump in my throat, willing it all to end. The Wolfos snuffles around my neck, then nudges at me, as if it can't understand why I moved.

A chill slowly crawls up my spine as I realize why it hasn't killed me. To all intents and purposes, I *am* dead. Or, at least, I must smell dead to this creature. I look back up into its face, and I can feel the same deadness that it can smell festering in my eyes. 

It takes a step back, slobbering all over my face, then steps even closer, baring its teeth. Just before I close my eyes, bracing myself, a flash of yellow light crosses my vision. For a second I think I imagined it, but then a horrible voice fills the cave, making the ground rumble and icicles shatter as they fall to the ground. I shudder and curl up, recognizing that voice. It's the voice of the mask, the mask I've been sent to find, the one that's possessed by something I've never seen the like of before. It's the voice of Majora's Mask. 

Get away from him, you mindless beast! I claim the right of vengeance! He is mine to do with as I please! He is mine to *kill*, and you will not take that away from me, not when I have waiting for so long! I said, GET AWAY! 

A feel a wash of wind, and I open my eyes just in time to see a great hand sweep up the Wolfos and slam it into the icicles on the roof, making blue blood drip down into my eyes. I wipe it out with a snowball – a real snowball – and make a run for the way out. But before I can escape, the voice is back. I guess it never really left. I notice that all of the little snowball monsters have vanished.

Did you hear that, Kokiri? Your life belongs to me. 

The evil presence leaves, and the fear in me adds itself to the solid black collection in the core of my body. I've learned that, to slow the growth of the tumour inside of me, I need to keep myself from feeling negative emotions. My anger, fear, hatred and sorrow all make the tumour grow bigger, and a lot faster. Of course, I never feel happy anymore, so I just stick to being numb, to *not* feeling. Or, at least, I try to. It doesn't always work. In fact, it almost never works, except when I'm asleep. Emotions are too much a part of me to be dumped off carelessly. I think that goes for almost everybody in this world. 

So I continue stumbling through the snow, my still bloody leg leaking all over the place and wobbling on me, leaving a trail a blind rabbit could follow. Oh well, not like it matters – I'll be dead soon enough. Then I remember the conch shell – yes, the shell! The old man said that if I blew on it, any living being would come to help me. I feel around for it, and soon produce the shell out of my pocket. Or, what's left of it. It's been shattered into pieces, thanks to my ceaseless falling and the Wolfos dragging me so roughly. Now I'm dead. 

I throw away the shards of the shell and keep stumbling in one direction, hoping to the Goddesses that I won't find my own blood trail. If I wind up going in circles, I'll die here, in this snow. 

Blood loss has made me weak and disoriented. I can walk no further. I sink to the ground, shrouded in hopelessness, and let myself sink into the powdery snow, accepting my fate. Maybe, in the spring, my frozen and lifeless body will be found by a wanderer. Maybe it will be found in a hundred springs, or a thousand. Maybe I will rot away into nothing, and nobody except the old astronomer and the Mask Salesman will care what happened to me. 

Man, I hate it when this happens.

*** 

Wow, that did take a while…was that a cliffhanger? I'm not quite sure.

I know it took forever to get this up, but oh well. If anyone is reading this, I thank you. If you review, I love you!

-Shawshank


	4. Part Four: The Canyon

Dear some random reviewer: thank you for your kind words. This is for you. I know that the writing style here is not quite the same as it was before, but I am a few years older, after all. I only hope it has improved.

-Shawshank

Part Four: The Canyon

"Wake up, Link. You are safe."

No. No one is safe. Everything…the moon…the eyes, always looking at me –

"That's enough!"

Her voice shuts down my primal brain, cutting through the maelstrom of thought and fear that makes my heart race, keeps my brain sparking with electricity into the long, cold hours of the night. I am calm, I think, she thinks with me. I am somewhere. I have a name. Everything will be all right, someday.

"Rise, Hero of Time. You must go out into this world and atone for yourself."

Light. Goddesses, how long has it been since I've seen real, honest-to-goodness candlelight? It can't be more than a few weeks, but it feels like years. Candlelight means people, it means a distraction from the deep darkness weighing on me, growing heavier by the hour. I can see now. Her face – I know her face. She's beautiful. She's strangely attired, considering we're in a cave somewhere in the hellish snowy grottoes of Death Mountain. Those leaves and ivy strands and things can't be keeping her all that warm, despite the mass of dark brown hair hanging to her ankles.

"You…it's you."

"Yes, Hero, it is I. I will help you, I will guide you. It is surprising you made it this far on your own, a mortal without any knowledge of divine workings. But I am proud of you, dear boy." She smiled, a quiet smile, and as her face crinkled it seemed that soil collected there, in the pores of her skin. She reached out with her earth-worn hands and touched the open wound on my leg.

"Sit up, Link. Observe the hardy spirit of the forest folk, the ones who you keep in your heart of hearts." She quirked a smile up at me. "Or would have, if you had one iota of intelligence. That is all right. Time will heal all."

I sat up on the straw mattress, suddenly realizing that the cave was not cold at all. Nor was it a cave. It was a small, round hut, made of some kind of thick white brick, and the air was surprisingly dry. I breathed in carefully, attempting to adjust to the new climate of wherever the hell we were, and turned my gaze to where she was gently handling my torn-apart leg.

She reached into a pouch she kept on her belt, and drew out a long, green strip of oak bark, its flesh young and flexible and vibrant, dripping with life. Gently, she kissed it in blessing, and very carefully, almost painlessly, slid it into the wound, sealing it closed. She held her hands on my leg, smiling, then looked at me, and for a moment everything was all right.

It was agony, I was on fire, my black pinprick soul was burning its way through my new flesh, until my old scar had pompously reappeared through the young bark. The beautiful lady looked at me, slightly troubled, but understanding.

"Yes, I thought so. But all will be well, Hero. This time, you must listen. You must be brave, and you must have faith that the Goddesses truly want the world to be healthy and balanced, and you are their instrument. You have been punished, yes – but it is enough. Now you must be the tipper of scales, the one to restore what once was to this place. Do you understand?"

Did I understand? The blue in her eyes was so all-encompassing, I almost thought I could see stars floating by as I lost myself in them, in a daze. I had been whole. Oh-so-briefly, whole. One piece again, one unified matter. I had felt…good. Happy, maybe. I'm not sure. It's been so long…

But then the curse, and now I had to ask myself, what is happiness? Is it a distraction from the horrible truth, that life is terrible and hard and full of slaves and masters? But no, it is an acceptance of that same horrible truth, a realization.

That isn't quite right either. Happiness is the opposite of sadness. Happiness is the lack of pain. Happiness is death? I am dead. I am not happy, I am so very convinced that I am not happy.

Am I…have I ever been…happy?

Wake up, fool. Answer the question.

"No. What must I do? None of your riddles." I have enough of my own to sort out.

That crinkled smile is, again, directed at me. "Only this. One more task, Hero. There is one more thing, and then you may rest, and I may rest, and things will be put back in balance. I must explain."

She sat next to me, her arm around my bony shoulders – when had I become so thin? Oh yes, since I didn't need to eat after all – and stroked my hair very gently, like I was a child. But I am a child. I am thirteen years old. But my head is ancient, wispy and drooling and world-weary. My body is a cold vessel, sailing on a sea it cannot touch. For a moment, I can pretend I am not so cold…

"Link. You must know already – you have hidden it from yourself. Your mind is trapped in itself, entwined in its own coils like a serpent between tree roots. Please listen."

I'm listening. I am safe, in the arms of the mother of the forest, listening to a fairy tale meant to send me to sleep. It's hard to stay awake, having slept alone and cold and frightened for three years.

"I am sorry to have to ask you to do this, Link. You must take one more life. You know of whom I speak. It is Majora, who has sealed himself away in the mask he was named for, who has been spiraling down into a dark circle of hatred and vengefulness for three years. He is a poison on this green earth, a poison that you must eradicate. But that is not the only reason."

She picked up my left hand with hers, the hand that held the sword that spilled the blood. A child's story, told in the language of war. She turned it palm-up, as if to examine the cracks for any lingering traces of gore, any sign of my duties. The snow had bleached my hands clean.

"You killed an innocent girl, when you had the skill and the knowledge to avoid such a happening. You killed her because you were afraid, because you fought unjustly, hoping to ambush your enemy. You killed a love that was strong and true. This we both know. When Majora dies, he will be banished to hell, while Narissa will remain in the Sacred Realm."

She took a sideways glance at me, perhaps wondering if I was pondering my own fate in hell, too. At least I wouldn't be cold anymore, that is if all the rumors were true.

"But that is not the end. There is always redemption. Majora will be able to prove himself, through deeds, actions, through his own strength, which has been twisted by this ancient mask. Hell is not a condemnation, it is a trial. The strong may look through it. In this way, he and Narissa will one day be reunited."

She suddenly grasped my hand tightly. "You see, all will be well. Just as I have been sentenced to redeem myself on this earth, Majora will have to redeem himself in hell."

I was awake all at once, made aware by the strangeness of her words. I asked the question that everyone asks, "Who are you?," but unlike some I knew the answer.

"Yes. I am your protector, Farore. I, too, have erred. But that is enough for now."

She stood up, this condemned Goddess, and looked at me, looked through me, saw the dark shale taking shape within me, itching to break it away in large flakes. "Now go, Hero. Be brave, and you will succeed. Then you will have rest."

I bowed, a mere formality, and left the hut. She watched her half-human bastard son walk into yet another battle. And somehow we both knew just how she had been punished.

(Next Scene)

I stepped into a bright light, sand sifted through my hair, and I looked at the death all around me. So this was Ikana. Kingdom of the Dead. Maybe they were looking for a new prince? I'd fill in the position quite nicely.

Dead things staggered in circles. Dead things circled overhead, preying on other dead things. Dead things infested the river. Dead things stepped out of the shadows to attack you.

Yep, I fit right in.

I walked out of that safe womb, holding the dark warmth in what was left of my hardening heart, savoring the utter safety I'd never known before. Then I looked around, unsurprised. All of these creatures, they were looking at me. Not attacking me – no, just sitting, standing, slumping, gazing in my direction. Confused? Perhaps. Curious, maybe. Definitely sizing me up as a potential food source. I did the only thing I could – I walked, as casually as possible, towards the center of Termina, towards where I knew Majora was waiting. The moon overhead was oppressively large, hanging over me and waiting to bite into my brain. It had been long enough. No matter how prepared either of us were, it was time.

I walked. More dead things popped up, all of them just staring, turning to watch me go. I could feel their eyes on my back, gazing after me in my wake.

I was not afraid. I was actually somewhat amused. I suppose my heartbeat confused them, because all and sundry knew I was dead. But I looked strong and healthy. My repaired leg pulsed gently, the sap mixing with my blood in an oddly familiar alchemy.

Heads unearthed from the ground to follow my path with their eyeless sockets. Crows circled overhead, amassing in a huge murder that hopefully would not live up to its name before I reached the Termina border.

I passed peacefully over the fence and back onto the green grassy field, leaving a congregation of death keening in my wake, having realized too late that good meat was on the run, and beyond reach. I retreated onto moist soil, and my entire body relaxed, energized and unafraid. I felt cool, unaffected.

I was heading into a battle for my very soul. My innards should have been quivering with nerves. I had no innards. I tried to imagine my worst nightmare, but couldn't.

A small part of my heart had frozen, under the relentless gaze of those un-rotten eyes, all looking at me, wondering, calculating. Hungry. I closed my eyes and felt the piece fall off.

It was finally ending, and the sky was still blue. Who could've guessed?


End file.
